The Old Man
by SingerMe
Summary: An old man's story.


**The Old Man**

I don't own these characters. I just like to spend time with them. No other profits to be had.

 **M &K&M&K**

The hour was late when I saw the campfire and smelled the coffee. Though, I had a full canteen of water and even half a bottle of whiskey in my saddlebag, I was surely craving coffee, a staple I had run out of a few days back. I didn't know who or how many occupied the fire I saw, but decided to take a chance and ride on in.

"Howdy." I greeted the man with faded blue eyes as he sat beside the fire. "I, uh, smelled your coffee."

"Get down, have a cup." The man smiled genially.

"Thank you." I returned as I lit out of the saddle and moved over to the fire. "Sure can't tell you how much I appreciate this." I told him. "I haven't had coffee in a while. Ran out and haven't been close enough to anyplace to get more."

The man opposite me nodded. "I know how that can be. I've got beans in the pot if you want some."

"Thanks." I smiled as I eagerly scooped some into the tin he'd handed me. I noticed him watching me and it made me a little self-conscious. "Sorry for my manners." I said ruefully. "I haven't eaten much in a while either."

The man across me chuckled. "I know how that is too. It can be hard on trail some times." He paused and then his countenance brightened. "But the trails almost over for me. I'll be home tomorrow and I don't plan on ever leaving it again."

"Home?" I questioned.

"Mm hum." He nodded as he stared into the fire and I could see the longing in his eyes. For home or what made it home, I couldn't tell.

"You got family home waiting on you?" I asked.

He nodded again and I saw a flash of pain cloud his face. "Hope so at least." He sighed. "She… Well… She said she'd be waiting and she never went back on her word so, I figure she'll be there."

"She?" In spite of the hour and my exhaustion from a long day's ride, I felt this overwhelming curiosity about the old man sitting across from me. Tall, gaunt, hollow cheeked with iron gray hair, you could tell he'd had a long life of hard riding and sleepless nights. But his eyes, told something more. Palest of blue yet so alive, they spoke more than he did.

When the man didn't answer and lapsed into silence, I realized he might not say anything more and for some reason, I wanted to hear more. It's nothing I've felt before, and I couldn't explain it if I tried, but I actually needed to hear this man's tale and I thought I just might have something to get him to talk.

"Say, I have some whiskey in my saddle bag." I smiled genially over at him. "If you wouldn't mind me camping here with you tonight, I'd be willing to share it with you. It'd sweeten the coffee some and keep tonight's chill back a little."

"Sure sounds good." He smiled up at me.

Quickly as I could, I unsaddled my horse and gave him a fast rub down, and what grain I had left before hobbling him for the night. Then quickly making myself a pallet with my saddle for my head rest, I reached into my saddle bag and pulled out the half bottle of whiskey I had left.

"There's not enough here to get us drunk but it'll take the edge off anyway." I grinned as I poured some into the cup he'd extended towards me.

"Thanks." He finally smiled as he took a deep draught of his cup. "It's been a while since I've had anything this good." He said as he drained his cup and I refilled it. "Last few years have been kinda lean."

"I know what you mean." I sighed. "Money's hard to come by sometimes."

"Oh, it's not the money." He sighed as he continued to train his eyes on the fire, as though he was seeing in it something that escaped my vision. "I've never had much use for money. Usually gave away a large portion of what I earned. There's a lot of people out there worse off than me. But I always kept enough to keep me going. No, it's not been lack of money that's kept me from the likes of this."

He held his cup up and I refilled it again. I had a feeling he was about to ready to talk about himself, and though I had no idea why, I had an even stronger feeling that I needed to hear what he was about to say.

"So if it wasn't money that kept you from good whiskey, what was it? Your wife didn't want you to drink?" I prodded.

With a wry grin he shook his head, settled back further against his well-worn saddle and pulled his Stetson lower on his forehead. "No, not my wife. I never got married." He said as that same flash of pain once again crossed his face. "I've never felt I had the right to get married, living the way I do, going from place to place and from one trouble to another. I didn't want to leave a wife and kids behind me to grieve over me."

"Well, if it wasn't money or a woman that kept you from it…"

"It was me." He answered my question before I finished it. "I used to enjoy whiskey like this. I enjoyed a lot of nice things. A warm bed and an even warmer woman. A good job and good friends that were more like family than just friends. I didn't have much, like I told you, but I had all any man could probably want or need. I didn't have a boss breathing down my neck all day or anyone else for that matter. Oh, I had responsibilities, and I took them seriously. But I was pretty much my own boss. I tell you, I had me some times." He laughed and I could tell he was remembering good times past.

"There was this one time, I was down south of here and there was this woman…" He stopped again as the sadness returned to his face. "I did a lot of living, boy." He continued without finishing that thought. "I rode sometimes from sun up to sun down. Did some cowboying and some hell raising and even some work for the law. I've seen some of the biggest cities and the lowliest of little towns and some of the best people and some of the worst. I rode trails that weren't really trails and I dealt with people that a lot of times, weren't really people. I sat with grub farmers and senators and everyone in between. I've been shot and shot at and I've done my fair share of shooting back. I fought in a war that never really did have a winning side but I fought anyway and got wounded there. Why, there were times I was sure I was going to die only to find a way out at the last minute. But I never really worried about anything cause of what I had at home."

"Had?" I questioned, noting the forlorn note in his tone.

"Yeah. It… it all just kinda slipped away from me some time back." He let out a soft chuckle. "Or at least that's the lie I told myself. Truth is; I let it go. I just didn't want to be tied down. I liked my freedom to just come and go as I wanted without the burden of anything like a wife and kids to worry about. I always figured that kind of entanglement would just slow me down, take away my edge and break my concentration in times when I really needed to focus on nothing but what I was doing."

"But a couple of minutes ago, you mentioned a 'she' and said you were going home." I reminded him.

He looked up at me and nodded. "Yeah, I did. And there is a woman and a place I've always called home. Or at least, there was. I've been gone so long, I don't know if she's still there or not. If she isn't that place won't be much like home."

"You leave her?" I asked.

The older man once again put his cup out for more whiskey, waiting until I filled it before speaking. "Not like you're thinking. I was just doing my job when I rode out. I expected to be gone no more than a week, two at the longest. But… well," he sighed deeply and lapsed into silence for a moment. "Things happen sometimes. Things beyond your control. You mean to do right. You mean to keep your word and all but…. Things happen. I tried to get back but well, one thing after another came up and I… I just couldn't do it. After a while, I guess I convinced myself that it was better if I didn't go back. If I just stayed away. Better for her you know?"

I put a little more coffee in my cup as I shook my head. "No, I don't guess I do. Why would you leaving her be better?"

"She suffered a lot while she was with me." His voice was filled with grief as he spoke. "People looking to get at me, used her more times than I care to think about. And the fact that we never married branded her in a way. In a lot of people's eyes, it made her less than respectable. She never complained about that though. She seldom complained about anything except not getting to spend enough time with me. She'd just deal with whatever came her way with a smile and tell me it was nothing as long as I was with her."

His smile returned as he stared again at the fire and I could tell it was she he was really seeing in front of him.

"Sounds like she made her own choice to be with you." I pointed out. "I mean, if people hurting her because of you didn't drive her away…"

"It didn't." He agreed. "But I did a couple of times. I didn't do it on purpose, mind you, but I did it. Of course, at the time, I never gave it much thought. I was doing what I had to do." He softly chuckled mirthlessly. "I guess you could say, I never really gave her any thought, except for when I wanted her or she was in danger because of me. I'm ashamed to say that but it's true. I always put what I was doing ahead of her, figuring that one day, I'd get tired of the life I chose and then I'd put her first. I'd just settle back with her and we'd…" He exhaled loudly and again lapsed into silence for a moment. "My time for doing that is almost gone now." His voice was little more than a whisper as he looked up at me with red rimmed eyes. "You see, I'm dying. I ain't got much time left and I… well, I guess I'm being selfish as always but… Well, I don't want to die alone. I want… I want to be with her if I can. I know it's a long shot that she'd be there and that she'd even want me near her after all these years but I… I've got to try. I've just got to."

I dropped my head as the old man spoke, thoughts of my own woman filling me. The old man had led a life similar to mine and it made me think of where I'd end up when I was his age. After a long period of silence, I finally looked up to see that the old man had fallen asleep against his saddle. Knowing the night was going to be a chilly one, I got up and wrapped his blanket tighter around him, removed the empty cup from his hand and threw a few more pieces of wood on the fire and settled back down to sit the night in thought.

When I finally fell asleep, I don't know. But I woke before dawn, feeling less than rested. It didn't matter though. I had a long days riding ahead of me and I was fairly anxious to get to it. When I looked over to the old man, I saw he was still asleep. He didn't appear to have moved all night. I started to go ahead and get my horse saddled and ready to go before I woke him, but something just didn't feel right. He was too still.

"Old man?" I called. In all the talk we had last night, I realized we hadn't exchanged names. "Hey, mister?" The old man didn't move and as I looked at his blanket covered chest, I saw it wasn't moving either. Quickly moving over to his side, I gently placed a finger on the vein in his neck and felt nothing, his skin was cold to the touch. He'd died wanting to go home and be with the woman he loved.

Now, normally, in a case like this, me or any other man would've buried the old man where he died, placed a crude cross of some kind on his grave and rode off, secure in the knowledge that we'd done all we could. But something tugged at me and I just couldn't do it. Searching the old man's things, I found a worn out bible with no name in it and a letter, in his coat pocket with not only a name, but a place and by the looks of the oft folded piece of paper with water logged words, I found the name of the woman this old man had been going to.

Taking that old man home cost me two days out of my way and some rough riding, but finally, I got him home, or at least to the place listed on the letter and where I assumed was home. Not knowing the town or its people, I figured the best thing to do was to stop by the biggest saloon I saw. If anyone would know this old man and the woman whose name was on the letter, the bartender probably would. They always seemed to know everyone.

"Yeah, I know em." The tall, mustachioed man said as he handed me back the letter. "Or at least knew them. The man left here some time ago. Supposedly, he left on business. But he never came back or wrote or anything else. She…" He stopped and I could see by his face that he'd apparently cared for the woman. "She died." The bartender finally continued. "She's buried in the cemetery, along with his baby she was carrying."

Nodding my thanks, I turned then and left. In an odd way, I was kind of glad the old man died the way he did, before he got here. He was already heart sore and if he'd somehow managed to make it all this way to find out that she'd died having his child… Suddenly, I knew what I needed to do, not only for the old man, but for myself as well. Going back outside, I quickly climbed atop my horse and, towing him along, rode straight up to the cemetery; that was perched on a hill above the town. It took me a few minutes to find the woman's grave but when I did; I quickly grabbed a shovel and began digging a grave right next to her. It took me a long time to get that grave dug and I attracted quite an audience as I did so. I guess it's not every day you see a stranger ride into town and bury a body in your local cemetery without leave to do so. But, well… Well, I didn't figure I needed leave to do so from anyone but the lady whose man had finally come home to her. And though I'd never met her, I doubted she'd a minded.

"That's a very sad story, Matt." Kitty sniffled, as she picked up her glass and took a sip of whiskey. "And yet it's not. That old man may have been late but he did make it. He did finally come back to her."

"Yeah," I answered as I fished in my pocket for the small velvet bag I had picked up in Garden City on my way back. "He did finally come home. But if he'd a come to his senses sooner and come back long before he did or better than that, not left at all, things might've been a whole lot better for him, for her too."

"True." Kitty nodded as she gave me a speculative look. "Is that old man and his woman the reason you hurried over here when you got back. You afraid you'd find me dead or something?"

She could always read me better than anyone and I figured she knew I told her this story for a reason. Usually, when I've been gone for a while, I would drop my things at the jail and check in before coming to her. But tonight, I'd barely stopped long enough to leave Buck at the stable before I made my way up to see her. Late as it was, I knew she'd be waiting on me.

"No, I didn't think that but yes, that old man and his story did have something to do with me being here." I moved closer to her, the bag still clutched tightly in my hand. "He got me to thinking, Kitty. He made realize how impermanent life is. He didn't say, nor did anyone else in that town who watched me bury him, but I have a feeling he was still a fairly young man when he rode out of that town for the last time. I'm sure he thought he had the world by the tail and a downhill pull and that no matter what, he'd make back to her and things would be the same as they always were."

"Probably," she agreed. "But you know yourself, plans can always fall through."

Unwittingly, she'd given me the opening I needed as I moved even closer to her and held out my hand with the bag in it. "I hope these plans don't fall through." I told her, trying to let the smile on face convey all the love I had for her. "I'm not sure what would happen if they did."

Arching that pretty brow of hers at me, she looked down at the bag I had dropped into her hand. "What's this?"

"Open it." I encouraged her, eagerly anticipating her reaction when she saw what the bag contained.

Giving me a look which meant she was questioning my actions, Kitty pulled at the drawstring on the bag and tilted it to let the ring fall into her lap. For several seconds I literally held my breath as I watched her pick up the ring and examine it. It wasn't much, compared to the many rings she already possessed but it was the best my meager bank account could afford and I hoped sincerely that she'd accept it and me. "Well?" I prodded, when she didn't say anything. "Do you like it?"

Wordlessly, Kitty nodded as a tear rolled slowly down her cheek and she continued to stare at the ring. "I… it…" She stopped, sniffled and then wiped away a tear before trying again. "Why, Matt?" She asked me.

Needless to say, that wasn't what I was expecting her to say. "Because I love you." I answered as I gently used my thumb to wipe another errant tear from her cheek. "I don't say it too often, but I do love you."

"Are you asking me to… to marry you?" She asked as she continued to stare at the simple gold band.

"Yes and no." I answered, knowing as I said it that I risked upsetting and confusing her. "Yes, I want you to marry me. But not right now. I still have this badge and this responsibility to it."

"Then why give me this now?" She frowned and that bothered me more than if she'd gotten angry. I figured my best option was to talk and talk fast.

"I wanted you to have something more than whispered words when making love. I wanted you have more to hold onto then the mere memory of smiles exchanged or a touch of my hand on your back. I want that ring to be my promise that I will come back to you in the not too distant future and ask you properly for your hand. Will you accept when I do?"

Now, most women would've immediately said yes when the man she loved proposed, even if it was for a future date, but not my red head. No, she just threw herself into my arms and cried some more before finally pulling back and handing me back the ring.

"No." She said sternly, yet lovingly. "I don't want you to do this because of that old man and his situation. You two may have had some things in common but I'm not one of them and I don't want you to do this out of some misplaced sense of…"

"I'm doing it because I love you." I shushed her. "I admit that old man got me to thinking, but he didn't make my mind up for me. And the only thing misplaced is this ring." I put it back into her hand and curled her fingers around it. "Agree to marry me, Kitty. Please. Or at least consent to thinking about it."

I guess years of reading my face paid off because after studying my very serious expression, Kitty finally nodded. "I will." She said. "When you're ready to make good on this, I will."

"That is so romantic." Jennifer sighed as she sat back in her seat with a soft smile. "Did Grandma really tell you no at first, Grandpa?"

I nodded as I glanced over at my red headed granddaughter that looked so much like Kitty. "She sure did. But exactly one year from that day, she said yes when we stood in front of the preacher. I'll tell you what, Jen, I never saw a prettier woman in my life than the day she walked down that aisle towards me."

"What are you two talking about?" I looked up to see my still beautiful wife walking in from being out in the garden and I grinned. She still had the ability to make me feel like a teenager by her mere presence.

"Nothing, honey." I stood and held a chair for her. "Just an old man's rambling." I told her as I bent down and captured her lips for a kiss and winked at my dewy eyed granddaughter.

"An old man?" She shook her head with a grin. "I don't think so, Matt Dillon. I don't think so at all."

END


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